The day for Toby began as normal as any day. He woke up, fixed his bed and changed into his usual attire, then after having a quick breakfast with his Nana and getting his backpack ready, he went out to grab his bike and met up with Jim across the cul-de-sac. His lanky dark-haired friend was walking out of his garage with his bike and lunch bags in hand, his black helmet with the single white stripe on his head.
The trash bin had been toppled over, and garbage was laying all over the driveway, but Jim didn't seem to be paying attention.
"Morning, Jimbo," greeted Toby with a grin as he stopped by the edge of the driveway, fixing his helmet up with his bike leaning against his side and backpack hanging on his right shoulder.
For a split second, a look of annoyance and anger flashed in Jim's blue gaze—but it came as quickly as it went, and that calm look washed over his face again, softening his features. "Hey, Tobes," he said while pulling out a lunch bag from his satchel that was strapped over his shoulder. "Got your lunch ready."
Toby's grin fell a little, having caught that brief expression on his friend's face. But he brushed it away thinking Jim probably was just upset about the garbage scattered all over his driveway and took the lunch bag his friend held out. "Mmm," He sniffed the bag, and his grin grew bright again. "Smells like you cooked up a storm. I see you're taking a chance there, chef Jimbo."
Something in Jim's face changed at the compliment. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, and his jaw seemed to have squared up. He wetted his lips and hopped onto his bike, saying rather curtly, "Come on, we're gonna be late."
Toby felt his stomach clench with unease. His smile had gone away completely now, and he mouth was open agape slightly as Jim rode past him.
What just happened?
He turned his head to see the garbage still laying on the ground, and he found the nerve to say, "Um… what about your driveway?"
Jim stopped and placed a foot on the ground to lean on it with his bike, looking at Toby with an almost dead-looking expression. "What about it?"
Toby never felt as awkward or as nerved as he did than when Jim stared straight at him. Their eyes locked with each other like two hooks, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.
There was something different about Jim's eyes. They were a bit paler than usual, and his pupils seemed constricted as well. It made Toby's skin crawl with shivers.
"I… um…." His hand gripped on the lunch bag tightly, and he swallowed hard. "Are we just gonna leave it there?"
Jim stared hard at Toby for a moment as if he were skinning the stouter boy with his eyes, and there was something that screamed smug on the little upward twitch on the corner of his lips as he said, "I guess we shouldn't?"
The dark-haired boy continued to stare at Toby while he got off his bike, finally breaking their eye contact and laying the bike on the ground to pick up the garbage and throw it in the bin.
"Um…" Toby opened his backpack up to place his lunch bag inside, his eyes darting around anxiously. "Are you okay, Jimbo? You seem a little… off today."
He winced when Jim grabbed a bottle and threw it inside the garbage bin roughly, hearing it smash against other junk that was inside.
"Why would I be, Tobes?"
He pursed his lips together. "I… don't know. I thought… I feel like you're upset or something… did I do something wrong?"
He saw Jim freeze midday to throwing a crumpled carton of milk into the bin. The boy stood up straight and turned to Toby, a thoughtful look coming across his face as he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Tobes. Did you?"
"I-I, um…" Toby scratched the top of his head, utterly confused. "I don't think I did?"
Jim smiled while placing a hand on Toby's shoulder to pat it, and the redhead would've dismissed any of his strange behavior if it weren't for the taller lad's constricted eye pupils that made his eyes look chilling. "I'm sure you didn't, bud."
There was something cold about Jim's hand that made Toby's hairs rise. However, he gave a timid and weak grin and helped his friend put the trash in the bin.
This is Jim. He's probably just in a bad mood.
But… Jim never really hid his feelings whenever he was irritated or something. He was open to Toby. Honest. They were honest to each other.
But if that was so, why did everything feel so wrong about Jim right now?
They set off on their bikes after the driveway was cleared, and Jim was already ahead of Toby when they passed the third house of their street. The redhead let a concerned frown fall upon his face, and his lip pouted a little.
Jim wasn't the type to hide anything. It bothered Toby to think that his friend had something secret from him. They told each other everything. Their opinions about things, their ideas, how they felt that day, heck they even knew where their underwear were located in each other's rooms.
Maybe he had a bad dream or something… He couldn't just have changed his behavior like this overnight! That's not Jim…
From the distant and through the wind rushing past his ears, Toby could hear the first school bell ring through the air. The sound snapped him out of his thoughts, and he gasped, "Oh, shoot." He sped up his paddling to catch up to his speeding friend. "Come on, Jimbo—let's hurry!"
"What do you think I'm doing?" Jim turned over his shoulder, and he had an almost disappointed look on his face that made Toby want to shut up and never speak again.
The redhead winced and shrugged his shoulders up, ducking his head to hurry up.
They rode for a couple of minutes until Toby saw a familiar track that led to the woods.
"Let's take the canal, Jimbo! It'll save us five minutes!"
He nearly toppled over Jim's abrupt-slowing bike, and he hastily turned his own to the side in fear of crashing. He stopped, putting a foot on the ground and whirling his head around to look at his friend. "Jim? What—"
"Why are you stopping?" Jim's question overcame Toby's, and he had an upset frown on his face. "Just go!"
Toby would have argued that it was Jim who slowed down, but judging by the dark-haired lad's current attitude, he only kept quiet and continued to paddle forwards. Now he was ahead of Jim, and he could feel the taller boy's strange glare boring down his back with each paddle he gave.
They sped past the path that crossed through the forest, Jim seemingly keeping his pace slow enough to stay behind Toby all along. The redhead slowed down a little to ride down the slope of the canal, dismissing Jim, who sped past and flew down with ease.
"Tobias Domzalski."
The stout boy stopped pedaling and froze, his heart skipping a beat and his blood running cold at the ghostly voice that uttered his name. He jerked his head around and caught sight of a pile of rocks sitting under the middle of the bridge of the canals, a shiver running down his spine.
"Toby?"
Jim's voice came from the other side of the canal, where he already stood on the edge with his bike. "What are you standing around for? We're gonna be late!"
But Toby only stared off at the rock pile, as still as a statue. "Jimbo—" he stuttered, looking over at his friend and pointing ahead. "Jim! That pile of rocks knows my name!" He placed down his bike and began to jog towards the broken stones, barely aware of Jim groaning softly in annoyance and placing down his own bike to walk down the canal.
"Come on, Tobes. Don't be ridiculous."
"No! I'm serious! Listen!" Toby slowed down nearing the rocks, with Jim casually walking behind him.
There was a still moment of silence, the only thing that was heard being birds chirping, cars riding, and their own footsteps.
"Tobias Domzalski."
Toby jumped back with a shriek, instinctively grabbing Jim by the wrist and pulling the lanky boy in front of him. "See?! I'm not crazy! Did you hear it too?!"
He expected Jim to at least flinch with mild surprise—at least—but the dark-haired lad only stared at the rocks with a frown. Toby couldn't tell if Jim was angry, irritated, or just didn't hear the ghostly voice.
"Jim?"
"What do you want me to do about?" snapped Jim, roughly tugging his arm away from Toby's hands and stepping away. "Come on, we'll come back later. The second bell already rang!"
"Oh... let me just look around real quick…" Toby ignored the stabbing hurt in his gut of Jim moving away from him and kneeled down to dig through the rubble. "Maybe there's a walkie-talkie or something under this stuff."
He missed the deadly glare that came from Jim, who curled his fists and sighed inwardly.
"You're probably hearing things, Tobes."
Toby scoffed. "I know what I heard, Jimbo. It wasn't just me…"
His eyes suddenly widened when he saw something glow blue from underneath a rock. He moved a stubby hand to grab the rock and take it off, staring down at what seemed to be like a glowing blue amulet. "Whoa…"
He picked up the strange device and studied its odd yet fascinating clockwork and details, brushing a finger over the rim that had words written in a distinct language.
"What a strange-looking thing…" he spoke softly.
"It's probably just some museum artifact someone dropped here," Jim objected from behind.
"Who would bring something from the museum all the way over here?" Toby wondered aloud in disbelief. He neared the amulet thing-y closer to face and narrowed his eyes. "…Hello…?"
He yelped when the school bell rang again.
"Great—we're gonna be late!" Jim grumbled and ran off towards his bike, leaving Toby behind. "Quit lollygagging, will ya Tobes?"
"You're in a mood today," Toby muttered, finally getting annoyed by his friend's demeanor. He stuffed the amulet in a pocket of his backpack and ran towards his bike, picking it up and riding towards where Jim was.
They reached school in the nick of time, the two hastily rushing into the history classroom where students were already getting settled for their first period.
"Phew, right on time," Toby said light-heartedly while sitting down with his books in hand. "One more minute and we would have been dead on detention."
Jim stayed silent and sat down on his chair heavily, sighing and looking ahead dully with his shoulders slump.
Toby furrowed his brow and placed down his books on his desk. "Hey, dude—you've been acting really strange today. What's up? Did you fight with your mom? Was it the trash on your driveway?"
He didn't get an answer because their teacher had already entered the classroom.
"Good morning, students," greeted Walter Strickler classily in his accented voice. He glanced at his students and dipped his head once, walking over to his desk. "I hope you're all faring well today."
Toby just watched and listened to his teacher, opening up his history book to the page he left off on the previous day. His eye briefly turned to the left to see Jim, and he blinked quickly when he saw his blue sweater friend cross his arms and stare at Walt darkly.
With a frown and soft cough, Toby lightly kicked Jim's leg from the side, whispering, "Dude, quit staring."
Jim shot him a look and opened the laptop placed on his desk, his eyes occasionally drifting towards Mr. Strickler, who began to explain about their lesson of the day. "The Peloponnesian War was actually three wars between Athens and Sparta. The first war is called Archimedean War." He began to stroll around the classroom with his hands behind his back. "A-R-C-H-I-M-E-D-E-A-N. Type that into your search engines."
Toby, however, opened up and new browser and began to search the internet for talking amulets, scoffing lightly when only toys and plushies came up. Besides him, Jim only left his laptop open and crossed his leg over the other, bouncing his foot up and down and glancing around inconspicuously.
Neither of the two boys paid any attention to their class until Walt walked up besides Toby's right.
"Tobias, would you agree?"
Said boy tensed up at the voice of his teacher's, quickly closing the browser and stammering, "Uh… y-yeah dude?"
Walt frowned. "I do not appreciate your slang wording towards me, Mr. Domzalski. However, back to the point—would you agree with Herodotus' opinion on his tactics of war, as I've described."
"Um, uh…" Toby quickly turned over to Jim, who ignored both his friend and teacher and stared out the window on his left.
You're no help.
"Uh, yeah—totally!" He uttered out in desperation.
"Excellent," Walt smiled, although he didn't seem to believe Toby as he asked, "Which tactics, specifically?"
Oh, shoot—he's got me there.
Toby bit his bottom lip and chuckled nervously in helplessness.
Mr. Strickler raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Jim. "What about you, James? Perhaps you know better than your friend here."
Toby winced at that.
Jim, however, seemed unnerved and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, you tell me."
The whole classroom fell into a dead silence. All eyes fell upon Jim and Mr. Strickler, who had a disappointed frown on his face.
"Mr. Lake," he said in a calm yet deadly tone. "I didn't take you for one to lack sense of respect towards those older than you."
Much to Toby's shock, Jim chuckled, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head back. "Oh… you don't know me at all, sir."
The school bell suddenly began to ring, and all the students at once began to pack up their items into their backpacks. Toby, however, couldn't move as his limbs were frozen with a strange sense of unease.
"Please watch your behavior, Mr. Lake," warned Walt through clenched teeth, his jaw squared. "Or else next time you'll get more than a warning."
Jim stood up pushed his laptop closed with an eyeroll that went unnoticed by Mr. Strickler. He pulled up his satchel and strapped it over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Mr. Strickler's as he walked out of the room.
Toby felt the soft yet chilling breeze of Jim swiftly walking past him and shivered. He turned his head towards the door and noticed that Claire had still been putting her stuff back into her backpack, her gaze turning from where Jim left and briefly meeting Toby's in question.
The redhead felt his heart skip a beat when Claire's deep brown eyes locked with his. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head away to quickly stuff his pencils in his backpack. He heard Mr. Strickler begin to walk towards his desk, and he couldn't help but notice the tension that hung around the classroom.
"Tobias."
He froze upon hearing his name come from the history teacher.
"Uh, yes sir?" He got up from his desk and walked near the teacher's desk.
Walt had a pen in his hand, and he looked at it as if in curiosity. "Have you noticed any changes in Mr. Lake's behavior lately?"
Toby opened his mouth, about to easily dismiss the question, but he abruptly closed it.
He couldn't say no. Even though it had just been a couple of hours, Toby knew something was wrong with Jim. He didn't know what it was though—maybe he had a fight with Barbara? It couldn't have just been the mess the racoons made on his driveway, could it? Jim wasn't the type to get so upset over things like that…
"I…" Toby wet his lips, abruptly looking to his right to see Claire just walking out of the classroom.
"Not really?"
Walt looked up and raised an eyebrow, inviting the student before him to elaborate.
"I mean… he's not usually disrespectful—he's one of the politest people I know," He gripped on one of the straps of his backpack. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood…?"
Mr. Strickler hummed thoughtfully, spinning the pen on his finger before grabbing it and tucking it inside the chest pocket of his brown jacket. "Perhaps you should keep a closer eye on him, Mr. Domzalski, as you should with your studies."
Toby chuckled weakly. "Sure will…"
Jim could barely remember when climbing the rope to ring the bell in PE class was challenging. To him, it was as easy as riding a bike with training wheels. He sat down on a bench in the gym room in his t-shirt and trousers as he watched the students struggle to climb the ropes, an unimpressed look smothered on his face.
Toby had been among one of the students climbing, however he was doing much more progress than the other students despite his form, his stubby hands and legs doing a great job as he visibly made himself climb more upwards.
Jim narrowed his eyes and eyed the redhead coolly before he turned his gaze over to see Claire handing over a Romeo and Juliet poster to Steve, who graciously accepted.
His mouth twitched downwards in a frown that furrowed his brows. Spite sparked from his heart like bubbles in boiling hot water, and his eyes glared ahead at Claire, who walked back to the benched to sit with Shannon and Darci.
Darci had turned her head towards Jim's way, and she leaned down to whisper near Claire's ear, and the Latina glanced from her friend to Jim, a thoughtful smile spreading across her face. She put her phone in the pocket of her trousers and grabbed the play poster that sat beside her, murmuring something to her friends before getting off the benches and walking over to Jim, who eyed her every movement inconspicuously.
It wasn't until she was at an appropriate distance from him that he turned his head to acknowledge her, his gaze blank and cold.
She, however, smiled warmly at him, and he knew that Jim from ages ago would have gotten sweaty palms, a racing heartbeat, and an awful voice crack if he spoke. However, now he stared back at her with no emotion showing other than the inner anger and annoyance that had stirred up.
She stopped a few feet away from him and brought up the Romeo and Juliet poster on her left hand, saying in a bright and inviting voice that used to make Jim enter lovesick mode, "Hey there. You're… John, right?"
Jim clenched his teeth and corrected, "It's Jim."
Claire seemed to flatter a little as brushed a strand of her blue-dyed bangs back behind her ear with a sheepish grin. "Right—sorry. Anyways, we're having trouble getting boys to addition for the Romeo and Juliet play. I was wondering if maybe you seemed interested in auditioning for a role?"
Jim looked down at the poster that Claire had outstretched for him, and he only looked back up to her hopeful brown eyes and frowned, bitterly saying, "Do I look like the kind of person who'd want to be on-stage with you?"
The sudden change from bright and thoughtfulness turning into shock and hurt that flashed across Claire's face was a satisfaction for Jim. Her hand dropped down a little and she now looked back at him with an offended expression. "I-I… was just asking. If you don't want to addition then there's no need to be rude about turning down the offer."
Jim got up on his feet, and he stood tall and straighter, almost looming over the girl as his face took a more deadly appearance. "Oh, I'm sure there is. I just guess I'm not exactly everyone's 'ideal' Romeo." He air-quoted with his fingers. "I'm pretty sure no one wants a Romeo who breaks Juliet's heart, right?"
Claire's head tilted back abruptly in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing as she started to walk away, stating to almost herself, "You're not the kind of guy I thought you were."
Jim scowled and shot back, "You don't know me at all, Nuñez."
But Claire was already away from him, and she either didn't hear him or just ignored him because she got to Shannon and Darci and walked out of the gym room with them.
With a scoff, Jim turned his head away, crossing his arms and hearing a voice come from his side.
"Jim?"
His irritation sparked up yet again when he saw Toby walk up to him, successfully finished from his task of climbing the rope.
The redhead, most likely overhearing the brief conversation between Jim and Claire, looked taken aback and asked in utter disbelief, "What the heck was that all about?"
Jim looked away without interest. "What was what?"
"That. What just happened right now." Toby moved over to get a better view at the taller lad's face. "I thought you liked Claire! She willingly comes up to you to talk with you, and you just full-on make her look like she's about to either burst in tears or slap your face. What's wrong with you?"
Holding up a hand to silence the stouter boy, Jim whipped his head around and leaned down to face Toby. "You're missing the point—she didn't come up here to talk to me. She just wanted to ask me about joining the school play. Do I look like the kind of person who wants to waste time pointlessly learning about a stupid play that will have no valuable use in my life?"
Toby started to talk, but he ended up getting his tongue tangled in gibberish. It took him a few moments for him to actually find the words to say something, the whole time Jim staring at him with a look that almost seemed mocking. "I mean, you're not the kind of guy to just suddenly turn down an offer so harshly like that. Sure, Romeo and Juliet's probably pointless if you aren't interested in love and mushy cliché stuff like that, but…"
"But what, Tobes?"
Toby fell silent.
With an eyeroll and sigh, Jim began to walk towards the exit, leaving Toby behind and pushing the heavy gym room door open with ease.
He did not expect to bump right into Steve Palchuck.
He hissed in agitation and took a few steps back, glaring up at the blonde who looked just as upset as he did.
"Move it, Lake," Steve pushed Jim to the side with his hands on the lankier boy's chest, walking past Jim and storming off with Logan and Seamus be his sides.
Jim bared his teeth and glared back at Steve, his shoulders squaring and his head lowering a little. "Watch where you're going next time, idiot."
Steve stopped and jerked his head around, his brown eyes looking infuriated. Besides him, Logan and Seamus crossed their arms in an intimidating manner. "What did you call me, buttsnack?"
Jim arched an eyebrow and tilted his head back a little, looking up at jock while crossing his arms. "An idiot. Are you deaf or do I need to scream it into your skull?"
Steve swiftly grabbed Jim by the color of his t-shirt, scrunching up his nose disgustedly. "Watch your mouth, Lake. You don't know who you're messing with."
"Yeah?" Jim chuckled. "Well, maybe you don't know who you're messing with either, Steve. Maybe you don't know what I'm really capable of. Maybe you should think a little before messing with me."
"Oh, really? Prove it." Steve suddenly let go of Jim and pushed the boy back by shoving his chest. "Prove to me, in front of everyone here, why I shouldn't mess with lanky Jim Lame Jr. I dare you."
Jim straightened himself up, his eyebrows lowering in a dark and deadly glare. He stared up ahead into Steve's eyes, and hatred swelled in his heart.
You took Claire and Toby from me plenty of times, thug.
You didn't even know them as well as I do.
"Oh, buddy," Jim growled. "Wrong move."
He wasted no time to rush forward and slam his fist against the side of Steve's face, punching the blonde's jaw slack with a loud snap.
Steve was taken by complete surprise by the swift and sudden movement, and he stumbled back, gasps coming from students that were in the gym. "What…" He moved his hand up to touch his agape jaw, furrowing his brows and looking angrily. "You little rat!"
Like a bull, Steve charged at Jim, hands outstretched to somehow grab the skinnier lad by the arms. Jim, however, easily moved to the side, causing the blonde to lose balance, and instead grabbed Steve's shoulders. He dug his nails in, and with a frightening burst of strength, dragged Steve to the left to make him collide into Logan and Seamus, the three boys tumbling over each other and onto the floor.
Before Steve could get up or Jim could move, Coach Lawrence's voice caught their attention. "Hey! Lake! Palchuck! That's enough!"
Jim curled his lip back and glanced from the coach, to Toby, who stood a little behind with wide, rounded eyes, and finally set his cold gaze on Steve, who was glaring daggers at him while holding his jaw in pain.
"Both of you to the principal's office now!"
While Steve, Logan and Seamus helped each other up, Jim had already left the gym room, moodily making his way towards the boys' locker room to quickly change into his jeans and sweater.
However, he paused as he held his sweater up in front of him, frowning as he studied it.
He gave what seemed to be a grunt and simply threw the blue sweater onto the bench, grabbing his satchel and leaving the locker room only in his jeans and t-shirt.
Before opening the door to the office though, he paused, his hand about to grab the doorknob. The feeling of something pulsing in his pocket made him reach for the amulet inside it, and he scowled upon seeing the spot of black on the pale metal slowly—almost unnoticeably—spread not even an inch around the rim of the amulet. It's cyan blue glow gave off this strange sense of coldness that might have made one's hairs prickle, but it only felt relatable for Jim.
He stuffed it back into the pocket of his jeans when he heard footsteps come from down the hall—Steve looking absolutely ticked off—and opened the door, his endless irritation growing yet again when he stepped in and saw Strickler on his desk.
This was going to be a long day.
Toby didn't meet up with Jim after the incident at the gym. He hadn't seen his lanky friend after he was sent to the principal's office, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see Jim again. At least, not for now.
He was inwardly thankful that his upcoming subjects weren't the same as Jim's. He might have caught glance of his friend while leaving the school, but Toby dismissed him and hurried away, not wanting to deal with Jim.
He was currently walking his bike glumly back home over the bridge. His gaze was downward, and his pace was slow—slower than his usual "slow" walking.
A sense of sadness twisted his heart at the thought of Jim. He couldn't get why he was acting so… crude. Just last night in bed they said goodnight to each other over their radios in bed after they finished studying.
How does someone change so drastically overnight?
The fact that is hadn't even been twelve hours and Toby was already missing a part of his friend was probably odd, but he was so used to his kind-hearted and laid back friend. Just a few hours of not being with the old Jim was enough to make Toby somewhat sad and somewhat worried.
He didn't like any of it one bit. He only hoped detention would actually wake up Jim from whatever recklessness had sneaked into his soul.
By the time Toby had gotten back home on foot, the sky was nearly pitched dark. He left his bike on the side of the garage and hung his helmet on the handle, grabbing his backpack that hung over his right shoulder and walking towards the front door. He took out his keys from the pocket of his pants and unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.
The warm and welcoming smell of cat, old people and pastries hung thickly around the air as Toby inhaled deeply, exhaling tiredly and walking over to peek into the living room.
Nancy was sitting on the couch watching TV as usual; she had a plate of cookies in her hand, and her attention was completely onto the game show that was playing live on the television. Mr. Meow Meow PI was absent, so Toby figured he was still outside somewhere wandering. He only hoped the cat didn't get himself in any trouble.
"I'm back, Nana," he called out loudly so that his grandmother could hear, the feeling of weariness baring down on his shoulders at the thought of having to explain his strange day to Nancy.
Said lady turned her head from to the side to greet her grandson with a cozy smile. "Oh, why hello there, Toby-Pie! How did your day go?"
Toby winced at the question and gripped the loop of his backpack tighter. "Uh—it was um… it was cool."
He didn't need to burden Nana with his problems. Right?
"Oh, that's just fine to hear. I baked some cookies earlier! They're on a plate in the kitchen table if you want, dearie!"
"Thanks, Nana…" With a nod, Toby made his way towards the kitchen and spotted the plate of Nancy's famous freshly-baked chocolate cookies. He snatched a handful of them and stuffed one in his mouth, just about to head on up stairs before he heard a thud come from the basement. He paused chewing and stood still, a chill running down his spine as he stared at the door that led to the basement.
It could've probably just been one of Nancy's cats—it was getting late. They tended to get active and messy past sunset, frankly.
But… how did the cat get inside the basement when the door was closed?
Stuffing the rest of the cookies in his mouth, Toby chewed and placed his backpack by the stairs. He grabbed the mop and opened the door, cautiously walking down the stairs and into the dark basement.
"Who's in here?" he asked aloud, his hand reaching for the light switch that was located on the left wall.
However, he frowned upon noticing that the lightbulb had not turned on when he flipped the switch. He looked into the murkiness of the basement and felt his hairs rise with a creeping anxiety that felt like jaws clamping around his chest.
"Hello…?"
He stepped off the stairs and pointed the mop at darkness, hearing something shift from his left. He turned his head to look what was moving and felt his heart nearly hop out of his chest when he saw six gleaming eyes stare at him.
"MASTER TOBIAS!"